The Escapades of Miss Watson
by bravehearttegan
Summary: A prequel to the 'My Dear Miss Watson' series. AU. Chapter Three; The Angel Part Two, wherein Watson is an angel and Holmes is an odd fish.
1. Scarlet in the Study

_Based on the rather old '__**My Dear Miss Watson' **__series__**,**__ these new tales will chart the beginning of this unusual partnership, hopefully in chorological fashion and with a little more accuracy._

_I certainly don't own any of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's characters and frankly I don't own Miss Watson either, she was well documented by Rex Stout and many others long before I found her. _

_However, I do enjoy innocently playing with her and especially with Sherlock Holmes and well all of with them really._

_...ooooo0000000OOOOOOO00000000o oooooo..._

Chapter One

**Scarlet in the Study **

My small leather purse slipped open, its hinges so loose that the worn silver plate cherubs no longer clasped each other when shut, they now merely touched and often abandoned their unison entirely. They safeguarded a grand total of four shillings and six pence, all that was left of a merge allowance inherited from my father's estate. So, whilst pushing aside a familiar feeling of helplessness, I tried to calculate my basic needs against this pitiful sum and compress the mechanics of the purse in the vague hope that everything would just stay together.

My afore-mentioned and much beloved father had once taught me to draw a plan of action when faced with a dilemma; therefore I now took up a pencil and jotted down a list of survival priorities. Thankfully the need for immediate accommodation could be moved downwards to 'presumably impending', whereas eating some decent grub had to be risen to 'urgent'. As if in agreement my stomach rumbled rather loudly, it was clear I needed a hot meal and although I had an abundance of half-eaten cold leftovers, obtaining something wholesome and warm was looking increasingly unlikely. Once started my list of basic needs was beginning to look alarmingly long, but when I got to 'a change of undergarments' I realised the futility of it all, threw the thing into the fireplace in despair and pulled a wool blanket tighter around my shoulders. '_Writing some dashed list will not produce a pair of woollen stockings Watson, frankly what you need is a proper income my girl and jolly fast_.'

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, this was something I had taught myself; having inherited a dreadful bull pup of a temper and again from my father*. There was always a solution if one kept ones head and refrained from engaging in something entirely stupendous, such as volunteering to nurse the armed forces abroad. I needed to consider a more mundane direction in my life for once and therefore must absolutely, definitely and utterly not be tempted by adventure ever again.

Moving over to my window I allowed myself to bask in the afternoon sunlight, it was the one small luxury of this dreary little room. It overlooked the patient's garden at Barts Hospital and presented a view over a small patch of nature amongst the combination of grim blackened stone and grubby glass. A little cherry tree grew in the centre of this oasis and I duly scanned its branches for any signs of pink blossoms…

"**Miss Watson**!"

The bellowing baritone of Matron McNally shattered my thoughts and caused me to jump backwards, landing against my purse and driving the cherubs apart again. The few coins I possessed now scattered across the floor, "dash-it!"

"I beg your pardon young lady?"

"The dishes, they needed clearing madam- Matron I mean." I cleared my throat, "do you want me for anything Matron?"

"I don't **want** you girl, I never wanted you, nor will I ever likely want you. Indeed child, it's highly **unlikely** that you will ever be wanted, tolerated perhaps, but not required. You have a visitor."

"A visitor?" I peered past her as if expecting such an oddity to be trailing behind.

"A young gentleman and I'll warn you now Miss Watson, I will not be standing for any more of them. I'll not have swarms of young men hovering about in my waiting room. I don't care who gave you permission to reside here, it will simply not do, not at all, do you hear girl? It won't do at all."

"But I don't know any young gentlemen Matron, surely he must be mistaken."

"Good and mind you don't become acquainted with any more. You'll have to get rid of him, but not in front of my patients. You may take him to the students study, but be quick about it, your shift starts soon. Oh and do tidy up in here, you have far too many belongings girl, this room is starting to look like a rag-mans alley, look at these dirty plates, stolen from the wards no-doubt. Respect is what you need girl, respect for those that give you shelter, do you hear?" She reached out and pulled at my blanket, "dear-me child, you test the patients of a saint. Here, put this blanket back, it's not a coat and I'll not have you disgrace my ward by looking like the beggar you are."

I closed my eyes, breathed in deeply and reminded myself of my debt in gratitude to this woman, "yes Matron."

"Well, don't just stand there girl, go **NOW**!"

My room catered for the on-call night duty, so it was almost adjacent to the admissions waiting-room. I quickly adjusted my uniform, slipped across the corridor and soon found myself amongst the patients.

I immediately recognised him.

Our previous short encounter had ill afforded any real opportunity for study and certainly no occasion for familiarity, therefore my initial reaction was indecision. So I stood and rather boorishly stared in dismay, vainly hopeful I was in error.

His height was unmistakeable, even whilst sitting that tall frame dominated the waiting room. A brutal slenderness emphasized it, yet he sat with an air of solidity that somehow seemed at odds with this stature. There was scarce in the way of colour about him, below a fringe of raven hair his clothes were a coal black and his features bleached, perhaps there was a little in the thin red lips and a slight pink on the cheeks, but these tints merely emphasised the lack of any other hue. This cold darkness seeped, ensuring an empty space on either side of him in an otherwise crowded room. A huge hawk nose framed a pair of bright gray eyes, which peered in interest, I too was being observed and I suddenly felt self-conscious.

As I approached he stood and bowed with a grace that defined him as a gentleman of breeding, such swiftness in movement is acquired and not adopted. "Miss Watson, you are momentarily free I assume?"

"Yes. It's Mr Holmes I believe."

"Indeed, Mr Stamford introduced us on Wednesday."

"How could I forget? Are you ill?"

"Certainly not," he seemed to find the question peculiar and looked at me with obvious disappointment.

"You are in a hospital sir and I am a nurse, it is only natural for me to be concerned. Then perhaps you have come to apologise?"

"Whom have I offended?"

He was either deliberately unreasonable, or simply ignorant. "If you are not ill nor can you discern a breach in social etiquette, then why are you here Mr Holmes?"

"I find myself needing information to solve a problem."

"Then how can I help sir?"

He looked about determining his audience and then seemed to brace himself for a shocking revelation, "please state your true intensions in this foolish fancy and then explain your unreasonable persistence."

"What the devil are you talking about Mr Holmes?"

"Accommodation madam, why are you insisting we co-habit?"

I was momentarily stunned and then almost relieved; the question was mild considering the deadly seriousness in his manner. It was clear the he was uncomfortable and despite any lack of sympathy for his feelings, I determined it unwise to provoke scandal and simpler to remove him to the more private location which Matron had suggested, so I turned and motioned for him to follow me. Once alone in the study and with some moments to take stock of his last assertion, I rounded upon him, "what absolute balderdash sir, you made it quite clear that the lodgings you had in mind were male only, indeed I believe you were fairly blunt about the matter. I rather suspect that a woman is not your ideal housemate, nor is she worth the disruption of your work. I'm sorry we interrupted your little mediocre experiment, but your chastisement was both harsh and rude. You could have at least acknowledged my presence before you demanded we leave."

"My work is far from 'mediocre' madam, I do not expect you to understand. Stamford had no right bringing a female into the labs and I have no time for etiquette, nor do I appreciate a lengthy introduction to someone's needy relative whilst working on more pressing matters."

"No, I rather suspect Mr Holmes that your attitude and tone would have been vastly different were I a gentleman. I have recognised this as bigotry, unfortunately it is common-place and unavoidable, so I must accept it." I turned my back to him and began to walk for the door, but he out-stepped and blocked me in an instant. Indeed, I was so stunned anyone could move so fast that I stopped dead in my tracks.

"I have not yet finished Miss Watson and it was not bigotry but decency that forced my hand. My valid objection to your gender is now immaterial, as it seems I have no choice in the matter but to converse with you. Your brother-in-law demands I re-consider and obviously without your knowledge."

"Michael Stamford? What has he said to you?"

"He attempted to bribe me and when that failed he made several imprudent threats. Now he has used his influence with the hospital trustees to remove access to facilities, permission to use the labs for my work has been removed and my equipment confiscated."

"Good-lord, that's rather a poor show. You were doing something rather delicate with chemicals I remember?"

"I believe I have at last found a re-agent which is precipitated by haemoglobin and by nothing else," he appeared to wait for some momentous reaction to this announcement; when none was forthcoming he continued, though somewhat flustered. "Yes, well… indeed this discovery is highly innovative madam, revolutionary even and it will be crucial in aiding my work. However I need at least another week to finalise the experiment. " He shook his head in frustration, "after paying the full deposit and two months rent to secure Baker Street, it will perhaps be another year before I can now accrue the funds for my own apparatus. Stamford's meddling has undone everything."

"Stamford may be a fool, but he is quite harmless and not at all a bounder, unlike some." I gave him a pointed look and then slumped in a vacant chair somewhat exhausted. "However if he's been badgering you then that's dashed bad form and I'm sincerely sorry, though he does have my ultimate welfare at heart."

"Why this sudden need to lodge with me madam?"

"Oh don't count yourself a special case Mr Holmes, we have found ourselves in somewhat desperate circumstances and you are one of many solutions, all of which have spectacularly failed." I rubbed my leg, not because of any direct physical pain, but because this feeling of total frustration had somehow projected itself into my wound. "Unfortunately Michael lost his entire lot on an ill-advised investment of salted beef from Australia. I returned from… err well, I returned from some business abroad to find him plotting a dash from his creditors with my little sister and my niece. He seemed to think I would want to follow them, but having barely survived one sailing I simply refused to partake of another. Besides I want no association with such dubious financing. So there lays the need to find alternative accommodation and rather quickly. I do concede that the proverbial barrel has been scrapped with yourself, but it seems that these days respectable ladies lodgings are not to be found anywhere at short notice. Michael has no wish to leave me homeless, or put me at the mercy of complete strangers, so we resorted to considering anything that looked half decent. He judged you a respectable fellow Mr Holmes, not likely to take advantage and had you down as unconventional and rather open-minded. He mentioned that you talked about wanting to share rooms on a suite in Baker Street and he actually went to inspect them."

Mr Holmes shook his head at that, "stealing a chaps digs from under his nose was he?"

The nose in question was currently flaring in anger and I desperately tried to avoid gawking at its enormity, "no, he actually came back with some scheme in his head about us going halves and living on two entirely different floors. I believe there is a small room on the top floor and we were prepared to negotiate for this, but you quite rudely cut us short, so that opportunity was lost." I threw my hands in the air, "a shame as it sounded half workable considering his other schemes. No Mr Holmes, you are not 'unconventional', but appear to be as narrow-minded and short-sighted as the rest of your gender." His back straightened at this and his chin shot up-wards, I had clearly found a crack in his armour. "Of course," I pushed on, "Stamford is not the best at surmising anything, you sir are like Australian salted beef, nothing spectacular except in my brother-in-laws failure of judgement." I fully expected him to stalk off sulking at this, but he took a step closer, his gray eyes now almost black.

"It appears that this failure of judgement is actually yours madam, or rather in your choice of options. There are clearly more appropriate charitable institutions to inflict yourself upon, I believe several of them specialise in abandoned females, I do not."

I felt myself flinch, but managed to smile through it, "yes and I've visited two. I was duly informed that 'ladies of my breeding' are not expected to find themselves destitute and therefore not welcome. No doubt if I disguise my voice and manners I would have more success, however it appears I do not fit into their neatly pre-conceived concept of needy." (This was a slight distortion of the truth; actually I had been thrown out of the first institution for being 'insolent' to some patronising old bat and walked out of the second in total horror at the lack of hygiene.) "Now, if you are quite finished Mr Holmes I wish you a good-evening. I have been thoroughly unpleasant, yet you still remain and I do not like it, this rudeness is not in my character."

"And yet you do it quite effectively." His smile was quick and bitter, "this interview has indeed been tiresome, but most enlightening. You have furnished me with sufficient information to expose your family; if Stamford is deserting his creditors then perhaps a threat of such an exposure will bring about my vindication?"

"Yes, you would think so." I checked my pocket watch, "however it's rather too late, you see the birds have flown their nest Mr Holmes, Mr and Mrs Stamford left Liverpool at noon today on a ship bound for New York, America." He cursed under his breath and I merely raised an eyebrow, smiled, then pointed courteously at the exit, "Mr Holmes, you are still here and the door is in that direction."

That bitter smile plucked at his lips again, "as are you Miss Watson, here that is. This hospital is a place with beds and food and shelter, all of which you currently lack." He folded his arms and looked down, "yes, from your clothes and hair I see you have spent last night in a small, sparse room close at hand and you probably intend to stay for at least another week. So, you work throughout the night on call as an unpaid nurse, clearly you are unfit for paid work, the board would simply reject an application as unsuitable due to ill health, but volunteer work with free board is obviously better than living on the streets. Someone has aided you in working here, evidently a person with considerable influence whom no-one else would dare question, such an unusual arrangement would require an unusual benefactor. But all this work is taking its toll, that shoulder wound you received whilst nursing in Afghanistan has yet to fully heal, your leg also troubles you, but only when under emotional stress, normally you would be somewhat disciplined about showing any signs of weakness. There was also a recent illness… perhaps some type of fever has left you short of breath, as I believe you were once quite active, now I fear you are rather useless to your profession." His thorough scrutiny finished at my feet, "you are still walking and looking for a bed, so this arrangement is not secure." His eyes darted upwards again and challenged mine, "how would the trustees react if they realised that such an honourable institution as Bartholomew's Hospital is being used to house homeless women?"

"How-how do you know all this? Have you been spying on me sir? Spying and asking questions no-doubt. So now you wish to expose me for revenge? Have me thrown out helpless, is that your game sir?"

He raised his hand and impatiently wiggled his fingers, "no questions, a name if you please, otherwise I feel it my duty to expose you and your lover. Yes, don't look surprised, this person has managed to install you here no-doubt for the express purpose of clandestine meetings at night…"

It was my turn to rile indignation and I felt myself blush scarlet, "I beg your pardon sir, I do not, nor have I ever entertained a 'lover.' Sir Bernard and his wife are both aware of my situation and it was her ladyship herself that suggested this arrangement. Indeed, Sir Bernard is like an uncle to me, an old family friend of daddy's, nothing more and he has put much at risk to give me this shelter. As you well know sir, I am in the active process of finding diggings and this is merely a temporary solution, it is not some... some underhanded scheme to indulge in vulgarity." At this point I had entirely lost what little control I ever possessed of my temper and was viciously stabbing my finger barely inches from his nose, quite ready to engage in mortal combat with the massive appendage. "You may not be aware sir, I still occasionally assist Sir Bernard in surgery as I did a year ago and he considers me a-a proficient professional, not at all useless. And I also volunteer here, so I feel it is my right to expect some kindness in return. And you sir ... you sir are certainly not a gentleman; you have a filthy mind and no manners and you... you are a cad sir and quite frankly deserve to lose your little chemical playground. "

He was so board with my outburst that he had resorted to examining his nails, "and you are far too easy to dissemble Miss Watson, you need to be more careful and guard against such weakness, I had that name with very little effort indeed. I find that a proud female can always be rattled with an allegation of adultery, toss them an accusation or two and they simply fall to pieces, works every time." He rubbed his hands with satisfaction, chuckling to himself and then peered directly into my face, "ah, it is true what they say about red hair, however you seem to have adopted a new skin colour which does rather compliment it." Predictably my face only burned harder at that and I turned from him, unable to control my reactions and unwilling to allow him pleasure in my discomfort. Yet he continued to address my back regardless, "and you may currently be more useful to this hospital, but certainly less resourceful than myself. There are those of us who are less appreciated here, perhaps because we are less haughty about our benevolence."

"I have a right to be high-minded Mr Holmes, you may very well amuse yourself with chemicals in the labs, whereas I am actually doing some good, administering to the sick."

"While my benevolence has a long-term contribution to society, yours is merely transitory; however I am much less noble about it and therefore less appreciated." His sarcasm was cutting, he was clearly ridiculing me. I braced myself and spun around, ready to end this battle of wits.

"I wouldn't call bashing the subjects in the dissecting rooms with a stick 'benevolent', 'childish' perhaps if your intensions were mischievous, but I think 'macabre' and 'ghoulish' would be more fitting in your case."

His face suddenly blazed with expression of devious delight, like a hound standing before a cornered fox. "Ah, Stamford told you about that I suppose? Yes I am unconventional in my methods, but you madam 'appear to be as narrow-minded and short-sighted as the rest' and rather disappointingly so. I also believe an appropriate idiom for your opinions would be 'somewhat hypocritical', though considering your situation I think 'ill-informed' would be more fitting."

"And you are twisting my words." I conceded defeat, again closed my eyes and took another deep breath. This fellow was clearly bent on revenge and I needed to limit the damage he could do. "I suppose you are planning to blackmail Sir Bernard with your filthy accusations? I won't have it, I'll leave now. You insult one of the few good and decent gentlemen by suggesting…."

He waved his hand dismissively, "please do be quiet, you chatter far too much Miss Watson, if you stopped and reasoned more then perhaps you would be less destitute. What I am suggesting is that we both reach a compromise and continue our existence here in peace, using the same benefactor. If Sir Bernard is bending the rules in one direction, he may well twist them again in another. Well, well, well, he's an opportunity at least, perhaps one that can get me back my lab." He turned sharply, "Sir Bernard is surgery, so his office would be to the rear of the building, that way I think," as his hand pointed abstractly at a bookcase, a small piece of sticking-plaster shot from his fingers and landed against my skirts. Automatically I looked to see its origin and then scanned him for more blisters or wounds, fearing perhaps a disease, but he forestalled my examination with a set of razor-sharp eyes. "If you will excuse me madam, I've left my riding-crop in the morgue, two birds with one stone I think." Then he fluttered his hand, indicating me to move aside, "I scarcely doubt you will have a good-evening whether I wish it or not Miss Watson, so I will simply take my leave of you."

…. and he was gone.

….ooooo00000000OOOOOOO00000000 0000oooooo...

_**As usual; I thank the patience of fanfiction readers and beg them to point out any errors. I also apologise for twisting ACD's wonderful characters to fit my own little warped universe, but such is the destiny of all things Miss Watson.**_

_**I'm afraid most of the irony in this story is lost if you are unfamiliar with the first chapters in 'A Study in Scarlet', as it is set to follow that wonderful first meeting, (with a touch or two of BBC's 'Sherlock' to spice it.) So lastly, can I please apologise if like me, you haven't read that book for a while **_

_**Feedback always makes writing worthwhile and spurs me onwards.**_

_**I will take the opportunity to thank the following regular reviewers of 'My Dear Miss Watson', who have been there for me at the very start and held out, frankly keeping me going; **_

_**Arty Diane (full of suggestions and my inspiration), delia cerrano (a wise owl that keeps me on my toes) Coolb92 (your reviews are cool), FJH4ever (straight to the point and honest) and Jfreak (thank you for the encouragement.) tree1138 (we both love Lestrade) Book girl fan (you somehow remind me of a character in 'You've got Mail'... don't know why, but it's a great film.) Ebony Fox (wish I had that pen name.) and TheGoldenHairedMockingjay (did I spell that right?) Louisethelibraian (I so wanted that job, but became a teacher instead.) Riandra (miss you) eylandria13 (your reviews made me laugh) and Gittacat (you so wanted up-dates and I'm so useless with them!)... oh and the many others who reviewed...XXX**_

_**Thank you Tegan**_

*Watson referred to keeping 'a bull pup,' in Study in Scarlet, believed by Jacques Barzun to be Victorian army slang for a short temper; others believe it to be an abbreviated name for a type of handgun, while many fans, (especially of the film-watching kind) believe this to be an actual animal called Gladston. Sadly, I can't at this point handicap Miss Watson any further by having her hampered with animals, especially as she is homeless and dossing in a |hospital. Also I find it difficult to write 'cute' pet characters; however for those pet owners like myself who love animals, I will eventually allow her to become rather attached to Toby the dog in _**My Dear Miss Watson**_


	2. The Angel

**The Angel**

_**...**_

_'**Ting, ting-ting,**'_

Our camp Sergeant Major had once told me that this sound was akin to that of a smithy's hammer and it occurred to me at the time that this was a profoundly romantic association, when in reality it was the sound of bullets raining upon our tents.

_'**Ting, tin, tin."**_

Occasionally they would hit the canvas and then they became somewhat more of a whirling sound, similar to a boiling kettle and would screech through the night air. It was then that we would all have to duck below our bunks to avoid getting hit, such was standard procedure. Most of us eventually became tired of this and simply pulled the bed covers tighter about our heads, impervious and ignorant

However I dutifully obliged tonight, diving below the mattress and waiting for the sound to stop. Indeed I moved jolly quickly and felt rather safe, despite the shaking...

'_**Ting, tin, tud ,thud'**_,

The noise changed in tone, but became louder in volume.

_'**Thud, thud ,thud.'**_

It suddenly occurred to me that I was cowering under a bed at Barts Hospital and in central London... this was not Afghanistan. Once I had acknowledged this, then it took me a few seconds to become fully awake and pull myself together, then I got back on top of the bed. However the shaking did not stop, nor did the noise.

_'**Thud, thud, thud.' **_

It was obviously someone knocking on my door, how foolish of me. Though it was indeed an odd occurrence; Billy always called me by name when I was needed.

"Miss Watson!"

Gosh my name, "hello, sorry. I'm awake, is there an emergency?"

"About time, yes get out here quickly."

"Who is there, is that you Billy?"

"Who the devil is Billy? This is Sherlock Holmes."

"Holmes?"

"Sherlock Holmes madam, we have met before, twice in-fact."

"Mr Holmes, what on earth are you here for?" I pinched myself to see if I was still in a nightmare.

"Unfortunately you are needed, I have a..." there was a moment of silence behind my door, "I require your assistance madam. There is a life at stake, you need to hasten."

"But you must register with Billy the night Porter and then he always comes to me."

"Oh for christ's-sake Miss Watson, I've no time for your female formality. I have a police officer needing urgent attention, would you please make yourself presentable, I demand you open this blastered door now."

The situation felt somewhat ridiculous, but I continued nonetheless, "you must register the patient with the hospital porter Mr Holmes, that would be the proper thing to do." I clung to my nightgown and modesty, despite the locked door.

"It is abundantly clear madam that I do not wish to follow the 'proper' procedures," he hissed back and I almost felt my door shudder with his tone. "I am here ..." again there was a pause, "not through choice. He insists on discretion and if you do not administer aid to this man, he shall also insist on staying in the morgue on a somewhat more permanent basis."

"You have left a patient in the morgue?" I was completely aghast that anyone would do such a thing.

"Yes, best place if you want to remain inconspicuous, I've spent many a night in there myself. Now get yourself dressed and out here directly, I will be waiting."

One half of my brain set me to dress urgently while the more sensible half began to question such a dubious summons at so late an hour. However, the thought of some helpless victim in the hands of the odious Mr Holmes and possibly dying in the hospital basement pressed me onwards. I was presentable in less than ten minutes and outside ready to confront the devil himself in eleven.

Mr Holmes was leaning against the opposite wall, a small candle in his hand, "you took your time."

Having to accommodate a half-fastened corset and only one stocking I was in no mood for his criticism, "I did my best sir, my usual call time is fifteen minutes and do not expect me to move fast as I have various parts of myself missing or loose right now, pray proceed."

I felt a sudden heat to my cheeks as he pursed and his eyes darted across me, he tilted his head to one side, "are you cold or just frightened?"

"Both."

"No it is neither, I have disturbed your dreams I see," his elbow brushed against mine as he turned and I shivered again.

He moved on quickly regardless and entirely in the wrong direction. "Mr Holmes, the morgue is to our right, you are leading me elsewhere and I am already suspicious of your motives, please explain yourself."

He stopped and sighed with exasperation, "there is a quicker route to the rear of admissions. You should know that madam, if not please take note, as it is your quickest point of exit should you need to leave the building in a hurry. This way please."

"Certainly not, we will have to go through Ward Two. I need to collect various items to treat your patient and will you please slow down."

"Time is of the essence, see him and then tell me what you want; I will see to your needs afterwards."

"Mr Holmes, I can see from the amount of blood on your person that this patient is haemorrhaging considerably, I assume there will be stitches, bandaging and treatment against possible infection?"

He looked at me momentarily stunned, as through I had two heads, then his jaw tightened and that huge nose shot up, "yes, highly likely."

"Then Mr Holmes you will kindly lead me through Ward Two as I have asked and we will collect my things, then I can get to work directly." He seemed to hesitate so I moved in advance of him, "ahead and onwards sir."

"You will get your supplies Miss Watson and I will return to the Inspector. No-doubt he has probably bleed to death after all this time-wasting and tittle-tattle."

I turned around to him in alarm, "surely you would not have left him alone if..."

But he was gone again, indeed the man had an infuriating capacity to just simply disappear.

_**... to be continued.**_


	3. The Angel Part Two

**The Angel Part Two**

As I slowly pushed aside the door, the dark morgue embraced me with a distinct eerie chill, inviting fear to whisper and pushing aside any quite rational reservations in preference for outright panic. Indeed, for a moment I seriously considered bolting-it as fast as my gammy leg would take me, right back to civilisation and shamelessly hugging 'civilisation' for being so wonderfully mundane. However, my upbringing and education defied all hope of escape; if there was danger a Watson would face it head-on and chin up, if there was a patient needing care I was duty-bound to grant it. I held my light higher, "I say, are you there Mr Holmes?"

"Helloa, over here,*" his voice was loud and confident; presumably I was expected to follow its direction. Regrettably Bart's morgue was a large and a somewhat sparse place, furnished with white tile-bricks, so his crisp tones bounced and echoed about the rooms.

"Where precisely is 'here'?"

"Use your common sense and follow the blood."

I lowered the light and immediately found the occasional red marks; they guided me eventually to a small corner at the far end of the room. Against the wall was a chair and in it was slumped a small dark-haired fellow. Kneeling before the chair was Mr Holmes himself, holding what looked like a woollen scarf tightly against the man's right leg.

"Why drag the fellow to a dark corner?" I was somewhat reluctant to approach, lack of light made them both appear quite sinister.

"Because madam, behind that wall is a vent from the boiling rooms, it is the warmest place down here. Look, his bleeding seems to have slowed a little, the blood is congealing to heal the wound don't you think?"

I kneeled next to him, "or he may have simply run out of the stuff." I gently pushed the bloody scarf aside and shone my lantern onto the wound. The little fellow wore a rather splendidly coloured tweed trouser; this had been torn aside to reveal a substantial gash running almost the length of his calf and inner foot. The sheer size of the cut would have been the main cause of the blood loss, indeed it had almost slashed his boot in two. "You were right Mr Holmes, this gentleman needs immediate attention. I'm sorry; frankly I did not fully believe or trust you." I carefully set aside the bag which contained various items needed to treat a patient for trauma and a small fire-axe, (lest I should be called upon to defend myself from the odious Mr Holmes.)

He pointed at his bloody coat, "yet you observed this?"

"Which could have easily been animal blood, you sir are an odd fish, this may have all been a silly trick to make me look foolish, or at worst a deception to ensnare me. Here, hold this and let me look closer."

"Yet you followed me regardless."

"I had no choice and I rather think you accounted for that. Besides you may be a horrid person Mr Holmes, but there is honesty about that nastiness boarding on bluntness. Can you help me remove all this material, especially these trousers; this boot will come away easily but that one will have to be unlaced."

"If I am to be honest Miss Watson, I find your attitude equally offensive, though you have previously stated this as out of character, so far I have found no evidence to support that assertion. I assume you wish me to tear away parts of his undergarments and not remove them entirely; I will take the liberty of leaving as much concealed as possible. Dear me, he is not a pretty sight dressed, but a young lady should not be exposed to such a frightening spectacle as these legs."

Our patient was unconscious, his breathing was regular and strong, his pulse steady. His skin was pale, though there was a quality about him that suggested that this was normal, around his eyes there was an olive greyness, probably a combination of blood loss and general fatigue. He was a little rat-faced looking fellow, all small and solid with hairy arms and somewhat exceptionally hairy legs. A preliminary examination of these showed that although the wound was large in length, it was fairly shallow and away from any vital arteries. It had cut into the Vastus Medialis and Soleus muscles; however my initial concern was the damage to nerve tissue across the right foot and the Abductor Hallucis muscle, that part of the cut was much deeper. "This is a sword wound, I have treated hundreds, but none quite like this; very large, with a dashed sharp blade and an odd tip to it. Who the devil did this?"

Mr Holmes raised an eyebrow, "a Niuweidao sword to be more precise. We were studying a nasty little problem at Blackfriars and I'm afraid this gentleman took it upon himself to liberate a shipment meant for China, the fellow guarding the cargo was none too pleased."

"You realise that the blood loss has been mostly caused by agitation. This gentleman has been moved a considerable distance, you should have kept him still and had him brought here via a cab."

"In the intervening time the fellow that inflicted this injury would have recovered consciousness and called his colleagues. Then all six of them could have joined me in searching for this hypothetical cab. If it is any consolation, I did carry him a good deal of the way." He pointed to his bloodied coat as through it were a testimonial.

"Even so, dragging him here and not consulting a proper doctor was fool-hardy at least."

"Miss Watson, could we possibly call a truce, I for one am rather tired of all this bickering. I have 'dragged' him here for his own safety. This gentleman should currently be off-duty, he certainly should not be with me and we both should have not been in that particular area. The group of individuals who did this are rather dangerous, I will resolve that. In the meantime we need to keep him hidden before he is traced and eliminated. Now, do you wish me to fetch anything from the bag you came with?"

"Yes, but give me a moment more, if I am unhappy he goes straight upstairs, Chinese villains or not. I will not patch a patient together to have him die regardless. Hospitals are safe places Mr Holmes, mostly full of honest, trustworthy people; indeed, I still see no dire need to keep him down here."

"Nowhere is safe, which is why he insisted on secrecy, I wholeheartedly agreed and brought him to you. Most people should not be trusted simply because they tell the truth, especially night porters and doctors, an honest man is a dangerous one. He is an honest policeman and would be eternally grateful for your co-operation, but be aware, they are looking for a man with a sword wound and will kill to get to him. Believe me Miss Watson, all those respectable and sincere individuals upstairs would be readily slaughtered by our pursuers to eliminate any threats. You are unofficial and have much to lose yourself if discovered; therefore you are the ideal person to treat him. However, do it as best you can and send us both on our way, he has seen too much and is therefore dangerous to you."

I sniffed the air, "he has also been drinking."

"Brandy, he must have had it on his person when I left him. He was quite conscious when we arrived."

"Which was a good sign. There appeared to be a vast amount of blood on this floor, but now I see it is only smears. I assume your coat and scarf account for most of the blood-loss, which is negligible. How long since the injury occurred, was he forced to use this foot and how much blood do you think he has lost?"

"Thirty minutes. Initially I left him, his leg was bandaged above the wound to control the blood flow and the foot was elevated, the bleeding was fresh, so the loss was quite heavy, perhaps over half a pint. When we journeyed here he never walked, my coat and scarf absorbed most of it, I dragged him when exhausted, so taken as a whole perhaps one and a half pints. I have seen victims loose more and survive; therefore I would estimate his chances as fair."

"It is a shame he is intoxicated, a normal and sober response would be dashed useful for diagnosis, especially if he is in shock. I will have to wake him presently; however it is best to let him sleep for now. Well Mr Holmes if you insist then I have no choice, I will do my best and we will have to jolly-well hope his body can replenish what it has lost, without proper management he may develop hemorrhagic anemia. Just pass me a clean bowel, there is a flask in that bag with hot water, empty it with a little cold please and I will need you to find me a towel or cloth, actually a mortuary drape will do."

He looked into my bag, "you have a towel available in here, would that not be more hygienic?"

"To help clean the wound yes, but I need something to kneel on Mr Holmes, my leg tends to feel the cold somewhat keener these days. Now will you please do as I ask and without question."

He froze and his mouth opened, unfortunately he was examining the fire-axe and dropped it.

Suddenly the head of our unconscious gentleman shot up and he looked at me directly in the eye, "bloody-ell, who are you? Oh gud-no, I'm dead an you're an angel, a proper angel." He slowly raised and pointed his finger, "but it ain't no use dear angel, even gud imself couldn't get Mr olmes ere to stop askin bloody questions."

"Do be quiet Lestrade."

"Be quiet is it, when there's a messenger of the lord imself kneeling before me. Look at ow er alo shines, so bright an so beautiful."

"That Inspector is just red hair and you have been drinking." He passed me the bowel and the towels.

"Brandy Mr olmes, would av thought that big nose of yours cud smell it an de- de-deduce... Where am I? Can't be heaven, not with im ere."

I settled my things about me and started work, "you are in St Bartholomew's Hospital sir. I say, are you sure this gentleman has not had a blow to the head Mr Holmes, he seems a little confused and I need to determine if shock has set in?"

"Oy, who's pinched me trousers?"

"No, he has a talent for being confused; his powers of simple observation are always practically none-existent. This Miss Watson is Inspector Lestrade, admittedly not at his best, he is the pick of a bad lot and the finest Scotland Yard can offer." He swept his hand over the gentleman with an air of resignation. "This Inspector is Miss Watson, formerly nurse to her majesty's military, at her best and doing a splendid job, you should be skipping about on that leg in no time." He placed the light onto a low shelf and then withdrew, pulling a chair over to observe us in comfort and at a distance.

"Av I still got a leg?"The Inspector looked down suspiciously at the bottom half of himself, "not sawed it off then?"

"Absolutely not Inspector, once I've finished cleaning then I will stitch and the bleeding should subside. I do worry about your foot, I may have to do some minor reconstruction, but there is so little light it may be somewhat basic, I shall see what I can do. Afterwards you will have to visit a qualified doctor, but more essentially rest, allow the wound time to heal, besides you have lost a considerable amount of blood, your body needs time to replenish itself. Thankfully it's a clean cut and not too deep, it will heal nicely, you are lucky it was such a sharp sword."

The Inspector fiddled about in his coat pocket and produced a silver flask, took a large gulp and then lifted it into the air, "ere's to all angels of the lord. An ere's to all china-men with sharp swords, an, an to... an to the super-nin-tendant, gud bless im, he'll av my bollacks tomorrow."

"Lestrade, may l remind you we have a young lady present."

"No Mr olmes, she's an angel."

"Just moderate your language. That brandy has taken away your ability to use gods English correctly and will you cease referring to me as 'olmes'."

As the Inspector smiled down he winked at me and I must confess my heart almost melted.

Mr Holmes continued to rattle-on almost to himself, "I am well aware your Superintendent does not approve of my methods. Tonight's little farce would only confirm such disapproval; things did not go according to plan, though we did learn some valuable facts."

"You did Mr H-hholmes, I was sent to sit behind that bloody create of tea. Ow am I to do my duty when e wont let me miss?"

"You were there to keep watch Lestrade, nothing more. You should have stayed were I put you, jumping out like that was not in my plans."

"But they were being kidnapped."

"Be careful what you say in front of our nurse here." He stood up and moved closer, lowering his voice, "they were alive and safe, god only knows where they are now as I was forced to free the rest without adequate preparation. I had intended to telegraph ahead and have them all liberated at Gravesend, but that strategy relied on an element of surprise, which you effectively negated. Next time you must trust me."

"But when I sees young nippers bein treated like, like slaves they were-"

"Quiet Lestrade, Miss Watson does not need to know more than the basics, for her own good. Knowledge is dangerous, especially with that man."

"Which man?" He looked about the room as though expecting someone, then he looked suspiciously at Mr Holmes, "not your bloody maths professor again is it?"

"Quiet!"

He dramatically clamped his mouth shut, then placed his hand over it for good measure, then he started giggling. Eventually he leaned confidentially towards me, "take no notice of im I often say to myself. All charm e is when e wants sunthin, pain in the arse-ole-pardon-me, when es miffed. Bloody useful through, knows all these things, usually sits an tells ya, doesn't even hav to see for imself, leaves the legwork to us professionals," he winked again. "Only e says we all buggered-up this one, es-especially Gregson the, the pardon-me-miss I wont say what e is not to offend, but he is difficult like, Gregson that is not Mr olmes- Hhholmes, though they are both as slippery as eels if you get my meaning. Well I was dragged out I was, sud be at ome with the missis, gud bless her" he raised his flask again, but this time I managed to stop him before the silver touched his lips.

"No, you have already drank far too much tonight, alcohol will only worsen matters and your body needs to heal itself without any impediment."

"Oh well, it's a shame, everything seems less bloody after a snifter. Am I still hurting Miss- Miss Angelson, where have ya gone? Flown away then."

I had finished cleaning and was now sitting next to my bag and considering the best way to stitch the wound. "Apparently not, but I am afraid you will feel something soon," I showed him a large needle that had been sitting in sterilising fluid. "Prepare yourself sir."

His little eyes widened and he went a shade paler, "not an angel after-all, gud-elp me," then he fainted.

Mr Holmes leaned over and pattered his shoulder, "out like a gas-lamp, best thing for him. Let us hope that he stays that way." He turned to me, "Miss Watson, you have so far proved to be invaluable, brave and courageous."

It was the politest I had seen him, he oozed genuine kindness, then I remembered the little Inspectors words, 'all charm e is when e wants sunthin,' so I braced myself.

"I know this is difficult, but you must be little braver still and trust me again. I am about to leave you both here, I will be gone for perhaps two hours, potentially three. Do not be tempted to move this man or call for help until the morning. Do you understand?"

"Even if he is about to die?"

"Especially or there will be two dead before I return."

This was all starting to sound like the duplicate plot to a Charlotte Bronte novel, through Mr Holmes made a very poor Rochester. "Very well, but answer me one question before you go."

"I will do my best."

"I assume you are not policemen?" His almost comical response to this gave me an immediate answer. "Then do you work for another official authority? Frankly sir, knowing you are working for a department in her majesty's government would ease my conscience; after all I am completely flonking hospital rules."

He looked momentarily upwards and then directly at me, "why do people always disappoint? Just when they seem capable of rareness they fall back into inanity. I am my own master madam, I answer to no-one except myself. Now, I will make use of your fire-axe if I may, no doubt it will prove more useful in my hands."

I looked to where the axe had dropped but it had now disappeared, looking back I was surprised to find Mr Holmes gone as well, "I say, I wish he would cease that, it's most disconcerting and very impolite."

_**Part 3 coming soon... well, hopefully :D**_

...

_***I distinctly remember Holmes using the word 'Helloa' as opposed to 'Hello' as a call of recognition in one of the adventures. Now I could be wrong as I've made a quick search myself and can't quite find it?**_


End file.
